


I've got something to call mine

by queenofchildren



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9877265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofchildren/pseuds/queenofchildren
Summary: Just a collection of random Ice Mechanic prompts because those two are delicious together. Usually first posted on tumblr. Rated T for now, but who knows what inspiration the future holds?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote these quite a while ago and posted them on tumblr, but I forgot to post them here as well. So, these are not technically new. But maybe someone hasn't seen them yet and appreciates them? Let's hope so.

It starts with a cartload of scrap metal and spare parts, salvaged from the ruins of ALIEs mansion and delivered to Arkadia by King Roan himself while Raven is still recovering in medical. He appears by her bedside, followed by an irate Abby and a near-panicking Clarke who is rambling about having followed the terms of their treaty with Azgeda and pointing out that if he has something to add, he should come to her. 

Roan, whom Raven has only met once when he carried her out of the smouldering rubble at the mansion and hasn’t spoken a single word with since then, ignores both of the very upset women vying for his attention and focuses only on Raven instead.

“I have brought you a gift. I am sure you will transform it into something worthwhile for all of us.“

This is how it starts.  

Next, it’s two jars of an ointment made from herbs that only grow in Azgeda territory and that have a miraculously soothing effect on her leg, and a rather hilarious one on Abby: after being presented with a batch of dry herbs and a recipe to turn them into the miracle cure, the hard-to-impress doctor never looks at the Ice King with anything but the utmost adoration again.

Then, in the midst of winter, it’s a stunning fur cloak, which Raven doesn’t think she’ll actually have use for – thanks to her and Sinclair, Arkadia has sufficient heating even in the biting winter. But then Roan proves her wrong simply by asking her to join him for a walk outside, where the first snow has just started to fall, and it doesn’t take more than a few minutes for her to concede that the gift is indeed a useful one. 

Roan helps her slip into it, and when she sighs at the much-needed warmth, she watches in amazement as one side of his mouth quirks up in what she thinks might be an actual smile. When he gallantly offers her his arm, she doesn’t even have the presence of mind to scoff at the gesture. Instead, she links her arm through his and lets him lead her out of the gate at a pace she can comfortably keep up with, relishing the contrast of warm cloak and crisp air and the fact that he doesn’t attempt conversation and break the magical stillness that comes with snowfall at night.

Next, it’s an actual, real-life puppy, and as she takes the excited little thing out of the gentle cradle of his hands, Raven starts to question her sanity.

The thing is, Roan’s gifts and visits aren’t a problem, per se. They don’t hurt anyone. They’re not frequent enough to raise eyebrows, and they’re usually framed by official diplomatic visits. The stuff he gives her is useful, and he’s not annoying her when he brings it by (even though she does sometimes get a little flustered about the way he watches her work, with a silent intensity to match hers.) Abby has softened towards him considerably after the herbs and ointment, and Clarke is ecstatic about King Roan’s frequent signs of appreciation because she thinks it shows that their alliance is holding strong.

But it still drives Raven crazy.

Raven has always liked to follow her questions up with answers quickly, her mind working at lightning-speed and challenging the world around her to keep up. But Roan… he eludes her, and she starts to resent him for it – perhaps a little more than is actually warranted. And so, after the third afternoon she’s spent ranting about him to Monty at their shared workshop, her usually so calm friend angrily throws down his screwdriver and snaps:

“Well, if you want to know about the gifts so badly, why don’t you just _ask_ him?“

And honestly – the thought has never occurred to Raven.

She doesn’t like it, not in the least, because lately she has noticed that there’s one potential answer to her unspoken question that she would much prefer to all others.

But she likes _not knowing_ even less, and so the next time Roan comes by and brings actual _flowers_ , she just blurts out:

“Why do you keep bringing me gifts?“

He is completely, infuriatingly unrattled by both her question and the aggressive tone with which she poses it.

“Because Azgeda tradition demands that anyone who wants to court someone bring them four gifts first, one for every season. When I inquired, I was told Skaikru observed similar customs, and you would understand the meaning of the gifts.”

“We don’t do the thing with the seasons,” Raven blurts out stupidly, before her traitorous brain finally catches up. “You’re _courting_ me?”

“Yes.” He says it with a completely straight face, but then that little curled-lip smile makes an appearance again. “Of course, I had expected you to catch on much quicker.”

At this point Raven is very much tempted to throw something at his head, something sharp and heavy preferably. But she’s equally tempted to do something else instead and, well, he _did_ bring her all those lovely gifts.

So she kisses him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was submitted as a prompt for a headcanon but I'm bad at writing headcanons that don't turn into fics: "Raven catches Roan while he's half naked and then can't control the feelings she gets".

Of all the places Raven expected she’d be six months after landing on earth, King Roan of Azgeda’s palace would be the last one. And yet here she is, pushing open the tall wooden door to his private chambers without waiting for the guards to do it for her, too impatient to share the news. 

“I’ve found a hole in ALIEs defense system.”

And she’s pretty sure her plan was to actually explain her discovery to him, but then she spots the king of the Ice Nation, perched on a windowsill with his shirt hanging off him in shreds and his upper body covered in blood and dirt.

“What happened?”

The speed with which all things ALIE-related flee from her mind scares her a little bit, but then again, the Ice Nation are their most important ally in the fight against the AI’s destructive plans, and Roan’s explicit approval and vow of protection goes a long way towards making sure all of the Ice Nation’s warriors actually respect that alliance, so keeping him alive and healthy is probably a good call. 

At least that’s what Raven tells herself when she crosses the room as fast as her leg allows to stand next to him and inspect his wounds - cuts and bruises, mostly, but the gash on his back does look pretty nasty, especially since it’s close enough to his kidneys to cause grave damage if it had gone any deeper. 

“Let me get a look at that,” she says, stifling a chuckle at how much she sounds like Clarke right now. 

And then he turns to face her fully, and the chuckle kind of dies in her throat anyway. 

She really really did not think this whole “rushing to his side”-thing through. At All. 

Because by now he has noticed the state of his shirt and is tearing the rest of it off, hissing in pain when the fabric clinging to the half-clotted cuts is ripped off and tears them open again. Raven rolls her eyes at his antics, but it’s kind of hard to pretend like she isn’t just a little bit turned on by the blatant display of tough warrior-ness and the general abundance of tense, lean muscle. It should be ridiculous, but unfortunately, it’s just… altogether hotter than she’s ready to deal with. 

She opts to smother the rising awkwardness (yes, the thinks, that’s what we’ll call it) in productivity and walks over to the bowl of clean water set on a metal table next to his bed. But before she can return with the bowl and one of the clean cloths sitting next to it, Roan holds up a bottle of clear liquid he has procured from god knows where.

“Better use this.”

So Raven douses the cloth in moonshine instead of water, steps close enough so that she can easily reach his injury, and tries to ignore how very weird it is to be so casually intimate with a King as she starts carefully dabbing at the wound. 

It’s not working as well as she’d like, to be honest. There’s just so much of him, of his warm skin under her fingertips and the play of his muscles under that, of his sharp smell, blood and sweat and battle, of his inquiring gaze when she’s finished cleaning and covering the wound and he’s turning around again. 

“Thank you.”

And that is probably the moment she should leave, or at least take a step backwards and try to remember why she came here in this first place. But his eyes are still fixed on her, pinning her in place, and the heat of his body is radiating out towards her and suddenly her hand is splayed over his chest and she’s leaning forward, blood rushing loudly through her head as she hopes he’ll take the decision off her.

He doesn’t. He stays rooted in place, watching, waiting, until Raven snaps, closes the rest of the distance between them, and crushes her lips to his.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was from a list of prompts: "One character adjusting the other's jewelry/neck tie etc.".

After what felt like hours of primping and fussing, the girl who did Raven’s dramatic red-and-white make-up has finally left, but Raven doesn’t even get a second alone to herself before the door creaks open again.

“You don’t like the clothes.“  Thankfully, the low, raspy voice is the exact thing to make her fluttering nerves settle down again.

“How could you tell?“ Raven’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, and the next moment she feels sorry about it. She’s not doing this for herself, after all, she’s doing it for him. And if it’s important for Roan’s reputation as a king that his new queen wear a ridiculous flowy skirt, leather corset, and an actual _tiara_ made of what she thinks may be animal bones, she’ll do it - for his sake.

But it’s just so very, very ridiculous, she thinks with another look at the mirror.

Then she stifles a sigh, turns towards him and smiles.

“For this, you owe me a trip to that bunker with the very well-preserved electronics you mentioned when you convinced me to come here. Just so you know.“

He smiles, that closed-lipped, lopsided smile that looks so mocking but hides so much love, as she knows now.

“Anything you want.“

And well, she may always want spare parts to tinker with, but right now, what she wants is to kiss her husband-to-be.

Unfortunately, tradition rears its ugly head again. The moment she’s put her hands on her shoulders and is leaning up to kiss him, Roan gently catches her hands and slides them off hs shoulders.

”No kissing the week before the ceremony, remember?“

Yes, she remembers, because the rule extends beyond kissing and it’s been a week from hell, basically. Raven can’t wait until this bonding ceremony is over and they can hole up in Roan’s mansion and not come out for at least a month.

Of course, there’s no way they’ll get to do that – he is the king, after all, and has duties to attend to.

But, she thinks as she rebelliously lifts her hands again and straightens his crown, made from the same polished ivory bones as hers, a girl can dream.

He doesn’t stop her, so at least touching is allowed it seems, and Raven takes her time to adjust the adornment, which looks so out of place on her but so regal and right on him.  

Letting her hands linger for a moment on the edge where hard bones meet soft hair, she allows herself a moment to just look at the man she’s choosing to spend the rest of her life with, if earth and its people let her.

Blue eyes meet her own, narrow briefly when he flashes her another smile, and then she lets her hands fall back to her sides.

“Ready?“ he asks and takes her calloused hand in his equally rough one. She curls her fingers around his, squeezes once, and lets him start to lead her to the door.

“Of course I am.“

Raven Reyes walked in space and brought herself to earth and made herself walk again even after gravity turned against her.

She can sure as hell manage _getting married_.

 


End file.
